Skyrim: A Mary Sue
by Chibbs
Summary: The Dragonborn discovers a black book with interesting information in it. This book brings about a shocking revelation about himself and the world in which he inhabits. But will it change anything?


**Skyrim: A Mary Sue**

I do not know how to explain my story. But it seems that it must be told. I must admit, my experiences are ones that I doubt any other would be able to truly understand. I have decided rather than to draw a definitive conclusion, I will state the facts and let the reader decide what to make of it.

I see myself as a proud Nord man with the typical Nordic features of golden hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and a warrior's body. I do not know my real name, age, place of birth, parents, nor any other history prior to my capture. What I do know is one bitterly cold morning; I woke up seated in a wooden carriage with my hands bound next to three other Nord men. They were as follows: a Stormcloak soldier with similar features to myself who's name eludes me at the moment; the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion Ulfric Stormcloak; and a cowardly horse thief who ultimately died attempting to escape his execution. We were all being led to a small yet thriving town named Helgen to face certain death at the hands of General Tullius's – the leader of the Imperial Legion here in Skyrim with the sole purpose of ending the Stormcloaks rebellion – headsman. That day, I could not say why I was facing execution. That day, the ebony colored dragon Alduin set out to attack Helgen but saved me from having my head cut off by the hulking Orismer headsman standing imposingly above me. That day, my life changed forever.

I managed to escape the destruction of Helgen with the help of one of my captors; a young Imperial soldier by the name of Hadvar. The soldier and I went to the small town of Riverwood where his uncle Alvor lived and worked as the town blacksmith. Alvor heard our story and provided better hospitality than a man could have ever asked for. After a nights rest, I was asked to head towards the nearest of Skyrim's main cities, Whiterun, and request aid in the form of protection through a battalion of soldiers from Jarl Balgruff. It was a simple enough request that would take a turn for the extraordinary. Out of the kindness of my heart, I took a detour from Whiterun and retrieved a Golden Claw in the nearby Bleak Falls Barrow for a shop owner in Riverwood. Not only did I find the claw, I encountered a small army of powerful undead along with a mysterious stone plate and a strange ebony colored wall with foreign words that spoke to me. I thought nothing of it and returned to Riverwood where I retrieved my pay for a job well done. In less than half a day's run, I reached Jarl Balgruff.

A request for help turned into slaying a dragon that threatened Whiterun hold. A battalion of guards and I slayed the beast easily but something happened when it died. It gazed at me weakly, mentioning the word "Dragonborn", and its flesh burned off leaving only eggshell white bone. A few of its magical scales gleaned in the air as they fell to the ground. Stranger yet was this sensation of empowerment that I felt after the death of the dragon. Upon my return to Whiterun, a voice cracked through the air like loud thunder on a rainy day throughout the town. I would come to know through Jarl Balgruff that the feeling of empowerment was my sucking of the dragon's soul, something only the Dragonborn of legend could do, and that the thundering voices were of the elusive Greybeards summoning me. He urged me to heed the summons while his court wizard, Farengar, would study the stone plate I retrieved at Bleak Falls Barrow. Admittedly, I could not follow the Jarl's advice. Not at the time anyway.

A year would pass by by the time I finally decided to meet with the Greybeards. In this time, I have done more than I could have expected to. I became one of the greatest heroes to have lived and one of the vilest of villains to have ever been born. I am considered a great warrior, a great mage, and a great thief. I effortlessly honed every skill imaginable to godly levels. I became the Archmage of the College of Winterhold and stopped a power hungry and utterly mad Thalmor mage. I became the Companions Harbinger which entailed becoming a lycanthrope, returning Ysgramor's axe Wuuthrad to its true resting place, and cleansing the spirit of a dear Companion who did not wish to remain in Hircine's realm as a lycanthrope where he would hunt eternally but as a great warrior in Sovngarde next to Ysgramor himself. I became Thane in every hold, helping Skyrim's citizens however I could, whenever I could; be it clearing out a cave of necromancers attempting to summon the Wolf Queen Potema or clearing a cave of vampires terrorizing a nearby town or something as simple as sending a letter to a lover whom was two steps away. I have many large homes that house massive fortunes, half of which I built myself. I have several adopted children in need and provided a wonderful life they never knew. Finally, I am a member of the Dawnguard; a reformed group of vampire hunters that has slain a dangerous Vampire Lord along with his court.

One might think to themselves, "How great to have the rare few truly benevolent in times of great sorrow." But as I have said, I am considered vile; at least to some extent. I am the reigning Dark Brotherhood Listener and assassin to our dear late Emperor and his cousin. I am a master thief and Thieves Guild Guildmaster. I am champion to all known Daedric Princes and entrusted to hold their artifacts. I was once a terrible lycanthrope and a terrible vampire. By day I protected the people from harm but by night I was the terror whom I protected you from.

I prose: I have done many good deeds in my life but perhaps my vile deeds were so terrible they could never be paid back. I digress. When I met with the Greybeards, I learned that indeed I was indeed the Dragonborn of legend. They taught me the way of the Voice while Alduin, the Bringer of End Times, brought down his army of dragons unto the people of Skyrim. It would become my duty to slay the terrible beast. A duty I upheld with the help of dear friends made over the course of the year.

Despite the threat of Alduin and his dragon army banished, it would seem that I would be forever tied with the dragons. There was soon word of trouble in Solstheim – another threat on par with Alduin. The threat was a Dragon Priest whom had vast knowledge from centuries spent reading in Hermaeus Mora's, the Daedric Prince of knowledge, library. He had dragons as powerful as the Bringer of End Times and powerful forbidden, powers at his disposal and was threatening to take over Solstheim. It was during my encounter with this Priest that I was forced into battle once more with Alduin – this time his terrible shade. Alas, the threats would begone and Skyrim was safe once more!

Or so I thought. The encounter with the Priest forced me into Hermaeus Mora's realm for quite some time. Naturally, I needed forbidden knowledge to fight this new threat – I needed to fight knowledge with knowledge. I still encounter scattered black books, even after the Priest's death and Mora's weakening, all around Solstheim. On a trip back to my home in Skyrim, I found one such book lying on the road. Bear in mind, Hermaeus' domain is filled to the brim with forbidden knowledge.

Contained in the book was information that I could not believe at first. I had thought it mad – that this information was wrong; that it was meant to be information that threw to reader off and to drive him into madness. However, the more I thought about the contents of this book, the more I learned about myself and the world. Everything that had happened in Nirn's history suddenly made perfect sense.

The book read about our lives being an artificial construct. Our memories were false. Our lives were false. Everything from eating to sleeping habits were false. All we have ever known was the result of careful programming by a distant race of humans. Not even the Dwemer would have been able to create something as wondrous and complex as this. This programming would certainly explain why a select few could never die, such as myself, why I was able to duplicate items with a thought or strengthen myself immediately in the same way. It would explain why the world will often items appear…like small blocks or why we did not truly feel.

I did not want to draw any conclusions instead relying on the reader's perception to draw aforementioned conclusion. But perhaps this forbidden book explains why many characters throughout history appear to be perfect. Why they are more beautiful, hideous, wonderful, terrible, all knowing and all powerful compared to all others in this world. A…Mary Sue. An abomination.


End file.
